And She Dreams of the Sea
by tsukirabbit
Summary: And in the quiet of night the former little sisters still dream of the place they once called home.


No idea where this came from or why I'm posting this. I thought I might as well though. This is what happens when I play the original Bioshock at 4am in the morning, I guess. Totally inspired by the song _Little Sister_ by _Miracle of Sound_. I even worked a lyric or two into the story. Big props to him for consistently making great video game based music.

And She Dreams of the Sea

Angelica is the oldest at nearly twelve.

Angelica, or Angie, as she greatly preferred had burdens to bare by being the oldest.

With the help of Daddy, of course.

Every night it was the same.

A raging current, endless fathoms, broken machinery.

Blood and rust.

She dreamed of the sea.

She dreamed of Rapture.

In the dead of night she dreamed she was still there in the decrepit city.

More than once, every night in fact, she had awoken to a cold sweat, fear gripping her belly and what felt like a hammer bouncing the walls of her heart as her eyes darted around the modest room she shared with her sister Masha, looking for a Splicer hidden in the shadows.

When her frayed nerves calmed and she realized she wasn't at the bottom of the sea she contemplated, if only for a moment, about going into her daddy's room. To snuggle close to him under the covers. Daddy had always protected her, even back in Rapture.

Then she remembers, she is a girl of eleven, almost twelve. She is just about a _teenager_. She fights the urge to run out of her room and seek solace in her father's warm bed and tells herself she is big enough to keep the monsters of her subconscious at bay. Plus, she knows she'll have a job fairly soon.

Eventually she will drift off back to sleep, the task hard at first. Some nights it's her own thoughts that cause her to toss and turn wide awake, others it is Masha's snores that drive her eyes to remain open. Somehow, around 2am usually, she is able to slip back into sleep. It isn't until around 3:45 when she is awaken by the inevitable she knew to expect nightly. A sinking feeling on her small pink bed gave way as a tiny body scooted up under the covers until she was level with her.

"Bad dreams?" she asks her littlest sister, Mina.

Mina, all blonde curls even with a messy bed head, and wide blue eyes nods and drapes her thin arms around her big sister's neck. Sometimes her face in damp from her crying, other times it is not.

Angie would smile kindly in the darkness and and rub her sister's arm affectionately until she drifted off to sleep. Some time would pass and another body would join the couple; Darla. Darla, who was eight, would always come to Angie's bed with a tear stained face and a runny nose. She'd whine about her dreams and only be quieted once Angie firmly soothed her fears. _We aren't in Rapture, _she'd tell the younger girl and she rubbed her face onto Angie's nightgown, leaving a wet stain there, _And we are never going back. We're here. We are safe. _

Sometime later Masha would join, she'd bundle up next to Darla who happily took the extra comfort. And finally, around 5am or so the second oldest, Marceline, would appear at the foot of Angie's bed. At ten and half Marceline was rather proud and would never make a peep as she made her way under the covers, struggling to stay on the too-small-for-five-girls bed. Yet Angie knew no matter how proud or how steely Marceline could be she had nightmares just like the rest.

And so every night Angie would comfort her sisters, to the best of her ability, in her pretty pink little bed as they helped one another fight off the nightmares that always seemed to come at when the sun went down and thrive in the shadows.

When the sun finally came up and more importantly, daddy arose, the girls would slowly make their sleepy way back to their own rooms and beds, feeling safe from the night's haunts.

"Your bed, it's small," daddy tells her one day over a cup of coffee. It is just him and her sitting at the table, the other girls are outside playing tag in the warming winter sun.

She swings her legs under the table and nods, "So am I." Angie is small for her age, she knows. The other children topside tease her for it, but she doesn't pay them much mind.

Daddy smiles kindly and takes a sip from his mug, "Don't you get tired of sharing your bed with your sister's every night?" he prods gently.

Angie thinks about this for a moment. In a way she suppose she did. Being too old herself to run to daddy for help she gathers she did slightly begrudge her sisters, but at the same time she did not. They were younger. They needed her. "No," she answers, "I'm the oldest. I have responsibilities." And she knows to her father's ears she speaks like such a little adult that he is impressed with her, the fact of which makes her beam brightly.

It will be her birthday soon. No one remembers but daddy who offers her knowing smiles and the ever observant Marceline who doesn't say anything but offers her one of her favorite dresses for the day. The other girls go about their day like it's nothing special, and she rather likes it that way. She doesn't want them to make a fuss for her. When daddy asks she tells him for her birthday she would like a nice doll and sweets to _'share with my sisters', _something simple and inexpensive. Something their struggling family can afford. Of course daddy supplies, as always.

As she watches Darla and Mina play with her doll, a doll she knew she'd never get a turn at, and chews on her gum, Angie is happy. She got what she asked for. What she didn't ask for, however, was for daddy to spend his hard earned and saved money and present her with a large bed in her room that night.

Her daddy had smiled and said it was because she was a big girl now, almost a _teenager_, and he had said the word teenager as if it was such ludicrous word that she had giggled. He told her that she needed a bigger, better bed now that she was older, but Angie knew the real reason.

And at night she dreams of needles and blades and guns. Of rusted, broken down machinery and an never ceasing deep blue sea. Of screams and cries, and she knows she probably always will have these dreams, but as her sisters pile in with her one by one she knows she is not alone in being haunted by a place called Rapture.

Wishing she could take their fears from them as she holds tight to her nearest sister and the former the little sister herself dreams of the sea and broken machinery.

End.

Thank you and please review if you want. It would mean a lot to me.


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